


Looped in the loops of her hair

by STILL_not_ginger



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Arguing, Crack, Crack and Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Crack, absolute crack, adorable idiots, crackfic, whouffaldi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-16 16:55:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16499165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/STILL_not_ginger/pseuds/STILL_not_ginger
Summary: A crackfic in which the Doctor and Clara visit a special hair salon at Jack's recommendation.





	Looped in the loops of her hair

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Irrepressable](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Irrepressable/gifts).



> Hello Lovelies! Variety is the spice of life so have some Crackfic. This is complete and utter nonsense which makes no sense and is just for fun. Then again sleepdust monsters were actually canon so...Enjoy!

“This is the last time I let you take me anywhere Jack recommends.”, Clara announced in no uncertain terms. “I should have known better with the stories you’ve told me.”

“Oh, sure, just pick everything apart, why don’t you? Always the same with you humans. Nag, nag, nag. I take you to the most popular Hair Salon in the 32nd century and, even then, you aren’t satisfied.”, The Doctor complained as his hair ruffled out even further making him look like a disheveled cockatoo.

“My hair is moving by itself, for heaven’s sake! I have to meet with my student’s parents in the morning. How do you plan on fixing this Doctor?”, she demanded to know, hair shooting out to the sides emphatically in mock agreement.

“Well, I’d recommend a hat but your face is round enough as it is, Clara. No need to point out what is already clearly obvi-OUCH!”, he whined nursing his stinging cheek while his hair seemed to deflate and smooth itself back out of harms way like a dog tucking tail.

She shook out her reddening palm in case she needed it again. “In case you’ve not noticed, I am not in the mood for your appraisals, Doctor.” Her tresses wound themselves into a bouffant French Twist as though preparing for a business negotiation.

Well, at least it supported her decisions in life even if it was moving of its own accord, she reasoned.

“Right, um…Well just be glad we didn’t go for the deluxe special, Clara. On the way out, I heard that stylist’s hair gossiping with their client. Evidently, the next level up includes speech.”, he explained as a single curl dipped down to wipe a bead of nervous sweat from his brow.

“Why can’t you ever remember the important details before we’ve stepped in it?”, she moaned as one long tendril pulled itself free and began twisting itself around and around, mimicking her anxiety.

“I’m over 2000 years old! Forgive me if I allow the minor details to slip.”, he bit out sarcastically. “I haven’t been here since my 10th regeneration ran out of hair gel and panicked. I was a bit vain back then.”, he mused and at that remark his hair took it upon itself to spring up like a wave cresting and flop into spiky pieces hovering over his forehead.

“I’ve got just the thing for your headache, Clara. If we drop Jack’s name it’ll get us in without an appointment, Clara.”, she said in her best attempt at a Scottish Brogue. Her hair, for its part, tried most ardently to look like a perturbed owl but settled instead for Michael Jackson before he’d gotten his curls relaxed.

“Very mature.”, he scolded. “And that’s supposed to be me, I take it? Mockery doesn’t become you, Clara. A woman of your advanced age should be past that kind of behaviour.”, and he knew, oh he knew like dried ink on a contract, that he would pay for that ‘advanced age’ remark as soon as it had slipped out.

Her eyes widened and even as she turned her back to him she made sure her hair got the message loud and clear to whip at his stupid face, weave into in his silly eyebrows, and poke him in his dumb mouth.

Upon managing to extract the strands that were stuck between his lips he gathered it all together and tugged it like a schoolboy. He sighed deeply. “Hey.”, he said to her softly. “You are welcome to stay in the TARDIS until it wears off, if that helps anything.”

She turned to face him and slowly huffed out a breath. “Yeah…thanks. Sorry, it’s not you. It’s just…I have to meet with Courtney’s parents tomorrow which is bad enough as is. And now my hair won’t stop making itself known.”, her locks seemed to hang limply for a second before reaching out to stroke the Doctor’s cheek softly. “Oh my God! Sorry! I-I’m not…I didn’t…Doctor, I’m not making it do that, I swear!”

If the Doctor was taken aback then it barely showed. He smiled, a bit smugly, down at her troubled face and with a gentle hand he caught the lock of hair and tenderly ran his fingers through it. “Well, at least one of you is grateful for our excursion.”, he muttered.

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to Irrepressable whose hilarious story "Infected" inspired me to try my hand at crack fiction. If you are reading this, I love your writing!
> 
> Let me know if you like it, loved it, hated it!
> 
> Title is taken from W.B.Yeats poem "Brown Penny". This is only the second fic I have written which references that poem. I'm not obsessed or anything...


End file.
